


Plus-One

by masi



Series: Short Stories for BPS [7]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murasakibara wants to spend winter break in Akita, not at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus-One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for BPS Challenge No. 49: Fluff.

Atsushi wants to return to Yosen with Masako-chin the morning after the Winter Cup, but she refuses to take him back. “It’s winter break!” she shouts in front of the hotel the team stayed in last night. “Go home! I don’t want to see your face until January.”

She walks off with Okamura, Fukui, and Wei Liu. Himuro pats him on the arm, smiling, says, “Don’t be upset, Atsushi. School will start again soon enough. Don’t you want to see your family?”

“Not really.” Atsushi flops down on the nearest bench. He stretches his legs out and then pulls out a bag of potato chips from the pocket of his jeans.

“I’m sure they want to see you,” Himuro says. 

Atsushi starts to chew loudly and with his mouth wide open to annoy Himuro.

“Where do you live? I’ll walk you home. Maybe we live close to each other.” 

Returning home means returning to the small bedroom he has to share with his brother. Brother Number 3 isn’t too loud or annoying, but he is a huge film buff who likes to watch movies in their bedroom for hours on end, his eyes wide and a notebook and pen at hand so that he can absorb every detail and jot it down for future reflection. Atsushi didn’t really mind until Number 3 came home with a gigantic LCD screen and set it up on a stand between their twin beds, right in the space where Atsushi liked to keep his boxes of snacks. They had a loud, fierce argument, which escalated after Atsushi knocked the TV and stand over, and ended only after Kaa-chan arrived with a spatula and beat them both. The TV stayed, of course, because seniority is a thing in their house and because everyone dislikes Atsushi. Just because he is really good at finding all the snacks Kaa-chan hides away and eating them.

Atsushi likes his nice dorm room in Akita much better. It is far, far away from Number 3’s loud TV and Number 2’s body odor and Nee-chan’s friends, who like to pinch his cheeks with sharp fingernails, and Onii-san, who likes to visit every night to boss them around and also complain about how hard it is to find a wife nowadays. Kaa-chan’s cooking is awful compared to the meals he eats at Yosen. And Masako-chin really appreciates Atsushi’s basketball skills, much more so than Shirogane ever did. She blows a fuse at least three times a day, but that’s a good thing. Atsushi doesn’t have to be worried that she will pull an Akashi Seijuurou and change into another person out of rage and frustration. 

At least Himuro will be here in Tokyo with him. They can go sightseeing. Himuro gets lost easily - or pretends to do so as an excuse to wander onto various street courts all over town and play illicit basketball games - so that will be a good way to spend time until they have to return to Akita.

In fact, Atsushi can just stay with Himuro until they have to board the train. Himuro doesn’t have any siblings. He should have enough room in his house for Atsushi.

Atsushi stands up, wipes his fingers on his jeans, says, “Let’s go to your house, Muro-chin.” He will call his parents in the evening and let them know he is fine and that he is staying with a teammate. They won’t mind. They always like arrangements that reduce the amount of noise and chaos within the house. Tou-chan had celebrated for three days after Onii-san moved out.

Himuro looks less than enthused about Atsushi’s suggestion. He says, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Won’t your parents object?”

“’Course not. C’mon, c’mon. It’s cold.”

Himuro eyes the crumbs falling down Atsushi’s coat. Atsushi brushes them off, says, “You don’t have to look like that, Muro-chin. I clean up pretty well.” He runs a hand through his hair and pulls his jeans up. “Promise I won’t make a mess at your house. I’ll be nice too.”

“Well,” Himuro’s smile is a bit strained, “I suppose we can have lunch together first. Then I’ll walk you home, alright?”

“Let’s go,” Atsushi says, placing his hand on the small of Himuro’s back and giving a gentle shove.

*** 

Himuro’s mother isn’t as pretty as her son, but she is almost as pretty as Masako-chin and, as an added bonus, very friendly. She had lunch already laid out for her son, but she starts cooking again on seeing Atsushi. She keeps up a steady stream of conversation from the kitchen while she is working, asking “Tat-chan” about school and basketball. 

Atsushi makes himself comfortable at the large, clean dining table within this gigantic dining room in this enormous house that is at least five kilometers away from his own house. He is careful when eating, making sure not to drop any food on the white tablecloth. Himuro relaxes by degrees. He has started smiling at Atsushi again by the time the tea and cakes arrive.

When his mother starts pouring the tea, Himuro says, “You know, Kaa-chan, Atsushi is a very talented basketball player. He might be the best center in all of Japan. And he gets excellent grades at school. Better than me, in fact.”

“Yeah,” Atsushi says. People tend to think that he’s dumb just because he doesn’t speak very clearly, and he doesn’t really care enough to correct them, but it is important to make a good impression here. “I don’t have to study either.”

Then he remembers what his mother told him about being humble. He amends, “I’m not number one in my class.”

Himuro’s mother narrows her eyes at him, says, “Quick question, Murasakibara-kun! What is the speed of light?” 

“Huh?” He thinks for a moment. He can see the numbers in his head. They were in a formula box at the top of a recent test paper. “Two nine nine, seven nine two, four five eight. Meters per second. Why?”

“What’s Einstein’s formula for relativity?”

“E equals mc squared. That’s easy.”

“Not bad!” She smiles at her son. “He’s a keeper.”

Himuro says, frowning, “Kaa-chan, we talked about this.”

She shrugs a shoulder as she pushes another platter of teacakes towards Atsushi. “Just something to keep in mind.”

Atsushi has no idea what they are talking about, but he doesn’t have time to puzzle over it. The teacakes are calling his name.

***

Kaa-chan says he can stay tonight as long as he doesn’t cause trouble for the family, and that he has to come straight home tomorrow morning because, according to her, everyone wants to see him. “Yeah, so they can pick on me,” Atsushi says.

“Nonsense,” she says. “And hand the phone to Himuro-san so that I can apologize. I never have this kind of trouble with your siblings.”

Atsushi hands the phone over to Himuro’s mother and then follows Himuro up the stairs to a large, very clean bedroom. Aside from a few posters of NBA players above the desk, the walls are entirely bare. Atsushi feels a bit uncomfortable until he sees the bookshelves. The shelves are curving inward from the weight of a vast collection of books, video games, shoe boxes, and various knick-knacks. 

“I bet your mom cleans your room for you,” Atsushi says, flopping down on the perfectly made bed. He has been inside Himuro’s dorm room before. It’s not nearly as messy as his own, but Himuro always has his fair share of snack wrappers and shoes and clothes and dirty socks strewn over the floor. 

“Only when I’m not home,” Himuro replies, sitting down on a squishy purple bean bag.

“Why? What secrets do you hide in here when you’re home?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret any longer if I told you, would it, Atsushi?”

“Muro-chin is so clever.” Atsushi lies down on the bed. The mattress is firm underneath his shoulder blades, and the comforter smells like detergent. He wonders if Himuro jacks off under the covers. He wonders if Himuro needs that magazine on the nightstand when doing it. There’s a hot guy and girl wrapped around each other on the cover. Himuro probably likes the guy better than the girl. Atsushi has seen the direction in which Himuro’s gaze travels when they’re going around town.

It’s okay, kind of, as long as Himuro doesn’t look at Kagami or anyone on their team that way. Atsushi doesn’t want Himuro to get too distracted and start ignoring him. 

Atsushi doesn’t need friends like some guys do. He can entertain himself just fine by watching and annoying people. But Himuro is a good friend. Atsushi doesn’t want this friendship to end. 

Himuro always has enough pocket money to buy him snacks, and he always tries to be nice and patient when Atsushi feels like being grumpy. He is a secretive guy, and Atsushi likes that. He has a lot of fun trying to figure Himuro Tatsuya out. And Himuro is beautiful when he plays basketball, so beautiful that Atsushi sometimes stops on the court to just watch. It’s okay that he isn’t as talented as Atsushi’s other friends. 

It’s also okay that Himuro gets too earnest about winning sometimes. Strangely, Atsushi doesn’t feel like crushing Himuro when he gets that way. 

It could be love (that’s a thing that is supposed to be irrational, according to Number 3’s favorite movies), but it’s probably a sense of self-preservation. His left cheek aches whenever he remembers Himuro’s punch.

“Hey, Atsushi,” Himuro says, “don’t fall asleep on my bed. If you want to take a nap, go to the guestroom.”

“I like it better here,” Atsushi replies, puts a pillow over his face.

After a moment, he feels the mattress dipping as Himuro climbs onto it. Atsushi waits for Himuro to sit down next to him so that he can put his head on Himuro’s lap. He did that during practice one day, and it was warm and nice for the five seconds it lasted. 

But then he feels a heavy weight settle over his thighs. He removes the pillow from his face. Himuro is sitting on him, smiling.

“What are you doing, Muro-chin?” Atsushi asks, just a tiny bit uneasy. He recognizes that look. He sees it often enough in the cafeteria. “There’s space over there.”

“I like it better here,” Himuro replies. “Also. You have something right here.” And he leans down, licks the corner of Atsushi’s mouth. 

Atsushi knows for certain that he didn’t have any crumbs on his face. He had checked the mirror in the foyer while he was on the phone. Himuro’s tongue felt very nice though. It made Atsushi’s pulse speed up, and there is a hot feeling in his stomach.

Atsushi presses his palms into the mattress, says, “Is that an American thing? Licking other people’s crumbs off?”

Himuro twines a few strands of Atsushi’s hair around his finger. His tone is careful as he asks, “You mind?”

“Dunno. Do it again.”

Himuro’s lips tilt up in a genuine smile, and Atsushi reaches up, brushes Himuro’s bangs back. He sees the smile in the left eye for a split second, just before it is fills with confusion.

“What are you doing?” Himuro asks.

“You look better this way.” Atsushi twists the hair together, holds it away from Himuro’s forehead. “Put it up with a clip or something.”

“Later.” Himuro tucks his bangs back behind his ear and then tucks his friendship ring into his shirt. “We have something else to do first.” 

He reaches for Atsushi again. His mouth is really very nice against Atsushi’s lips, sweet from the cake, wet, earnest.

When they part to breathe, Atsushi says, “Aren’t you glad you brought me home, Muro-chin?”

Himuro replies, “Are you going to make me regret it later?”

Atsushi curves an arm around Himuro’s shoulders and pulls him closer. He is glad that he didn’t go back to Yosen with Masako-chin. Now he just has to convince Himuro to go home with him tomorrow and spend the rest of the vacation with him.


End file.
